


What if... Ratchet Died...

by MrsAlot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Pain, hartbrake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsAlot/pseuds/MrsAlot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title says it all...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What if... Ratchet Died...

**Author's Note:**

> as much as i like fluff... i do like to torment and put my most love characters through pain and misery...

Drift woke up with a start, his systems rebooted so fast it left him dizzy. He bolted up, all his senses alert for danger as and looked around the dark room. Optics bright as he scrutinised the inky black of his surroundings. After a moment of nothing remotely threatening coming out to kill him, he sighed tiredly, shaking his helm and rubbing his optics.

He’d had a late night… not that he was complaining at all. It had been a very well spent evening. He’d met Ratchet in Swerves after their shifts had finished, They’d taken their rations together and spent hours just simply talking, enjoying the atmosphere in the bar and each others company. Then they had retired to the sword mechs quarters and…

Drifts frame tingled. They’d made love for hours, exploring each others bodies and finely… after so much dancing around the subject… they’d finely taken the last step in their courtship… they’d bared their sparks to each other and merged. And for a brief shining moment, had become one. Ratchet had smiled down at him and finely told him… the three little words he’d always wanted to hear, and form the wonderful medic non the less. It had been an utterly wonderful night… perfect… in that moment, Drift had never felt so happy in his entire life. 

“Oooh, Ratch babe… your so cold,” Drift cooed softly running a servo over the medics frame, finely noticing how cool it was to the touch. “You should of said something. Not to worry, I’m sure I can warm you up.” He chuckled. The Medic said nothing… in fact… he hadn’t even moved. The TIC frowned in the dark. The Doctor was usually such a light sleeper. Most of the time Drift only had to ex-vent too heavily and the older mech would wake up. A side affect from a millennia of war.

“Ratchet?” Drift called softly. Now that he thought about it… Ratchet was really cold. Too cold. An uneasy tickle down his spine, the younger mech reached out with his EM field. He felt panic rise in his chest when he couldn’t detect any sort of electrical magnetic field form his berth mate, he couldn’t even feel the doctors intakes working. Drift shook the still medic.

“Ratch… Baby… wake up!” Drifts voice wavered with static, giving Ratchet another, much harder, shake. “Baby, please… y-your scaring me!” when he still got no response Drift lunged for the light switch and instantly regretted it.

The scream that ripped from his throat was one of grief and horror, his one perfect moment of his new life literally destroyed before his optics as he saw his lover… laying still and lifeless in the berth, his handsome white and red frame already dull and turning grey.

Drift fell off the berth, he scuttled back on the floor till he hit the wall, he stared in shock, his optics wide and flaring with ribbons of light as they over heated, all the while he screamed at the height of his vocal range. He didn’t here the pounding or the yelling through his door. Didn’t even notice when his door slid open and the hulking form of Magnus rushed in.

“Drift! What’s going on i-” Ultra Magnus froze when he saw the greying frame on the berth. The blue mechs face falling in realization. “Oh… Dear Primus… No…”

Drift didn’t hear the law bot comm.ing for medics. He didn’t hear Rodimus barging in and demanding why he had been woken up. He didn’t hear the others start to gather out side, drawn out by his spark wrenching cries and the commotion. He clawed at his optics when Ambulon and First-Aid came in, he didn’t want to see them. Not wanting to see the confirmation of his hellish nightmare.

The outside world became a blur. All he could feel was pain and despair. He screamed and cursed and cried till his voice box shorted out and his optics burned white hot. He was lost in his grief. How everyone he cared for died, first Wing and now… Ratchet. He failed them both, let them both slip through his fingers. Now all he could do was silently sob in a ball making dreadful gurgling noises while his spark ripped itself apart in his chest…


End file.
